Wow. The seals were amazing. There were hundreds of the things, all huffing and puffing and whining and moaning. Mostly they were just laid there looking 
cute, or, when they spotted cameras, turning their backs on the freakish, camouflage-clad, long lens wielding wildlife photographers 
(M said loudly in earshot of one of these frightening men that she would just be taking a photo of the beach and be Photoshop-ing a seal in later). It was an amazing experience to witness such a natural spectacle and I can't believe it's taken me so long to go and see this.
We knew that Donna Nook was part of a MoD bombing range but I didn't really expect the jet fighters overhead. Even with all these little seal pups dotted all over the beach it seems that the RAF's bombing practice must go on, with regular fly-pasts culminating in big bangs. Miraculously the seals don't even flinch.
On the return journey we stopped off at a pub round the corner called the Axe & Cleaver. It's all about violence in Lincolnshire, isn't it?
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